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They looked up as we walked in, and one of them spoke in Thai to my companion and host. In the living room, half a dozen other Thais stood or sat, engaged in animated conversation. A manservant opened the door and welcomed us inside.
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It was tastefully furnished with traditional Thai furniture and hangings. The apartment occupied the whole top floor, with stunning views across Bangkok. My companion told me that it belonged to his father but that his parent never used the place, allowing his son to have a comfortable base in the big city.Īnd, indeed, it was comfortable. Half-an-hour later, we arrived at a smart condominium. "You'll be the only farang, but my countrymen are very welcoming, as I'm sure you have already found out," he reassured me. He asked me if I'd like to join him at a private party. He asked me what I was planning to do for the rest of the evening. Any of you who've been in these situations will recognize the type of conversation. We asked each other about jobs, where we were living, the existence or not of girlfriends, the places where we usually hung out in Bangkok, and so on. We looked at each other, liked what we saw, and settled down to drink and to chat companionably about this and that. "I haven't seen you here before," he said. Taller than average as well, a clear complexion, good-looking without being overly cute. He appeared to be nicely muscled as well, although fortunately not the body builder type that we would be seeing later in the floor show. Well-dressed, I noted, which was unusual in this particular bar. After a few minutes, a young Thai came over, ordered himself a Coke and sat on the stool next to mine. I went over to the bar, ordered myself an orange juice and settled onto a stool. I knew quite a few of the guys who were sitting around in the low armchairs, and I nodded with a smile to several of them. It was early evening when I strolled into the Bangkok bar.